


I know the way these things begin...

by centreoftheselights



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/F, Fantasy, First Kiss, Inspired by Music, Making Out, One-Sided Attraction, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 08:11:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8197385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centreoftheselights/pseuds/centreoftheselights
Summary: Cho sees her before she even walks in the door of the café.





	

> [I know your name, I know your skin  
>  I know the way these things begin…](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DkD7TZyLeCfk&t=MDBjOGEwODdhMzIyMzkwZWNlZDAxNWIxOTZhNDlhY2U0NzBmMDBjMSx3ZnRzUTB6Sg%3D%3D&b=t%3AzSKdcDHpEksXRnLnhVnJQA&m=1)

Cho sees her before she even walks in the door of the café. A single glance through the crowd is enough for her to be certain. She knows that hair, those shoes, the way she heaves her laptop bag over her shoulder as she walks.

She comes in, of course, just like she does everyday. There isn't much of a queue, and before she knows it – before she has a chance to be ready for it – Cho turns and sees that familiar face, weary half-smile, already fumbling in her bag for her ever-lost purse.

“Cinnamon latte, please,” she says without looking up, “and a caramel waffle.”

Cho knows her order, the same thing she asks for every day, just like she knows the woman will take the table in the window and work on her laptop until long after her coffee has cooled, while Cho tries not to glance her way too frequently. She could pass comment at that, start a conversation – but her tongue is fumbling, weak. She is deafened by the rush of blood in her ears, her desires too powerful for words.

So she doesn't speak. She reaches out, takes the woman's hand. Their eyes lock, and the heat that passes between them is too strong to be mistaken. Cho tugs smoothly at her apron strings, lets it drops to the floor, walks away from the counter and the coffee machine and the endless queue without a backwards glance.

The woman follows her without question, her stride confident, a sway to her hips that Cho has never seen before. Cho leads her into the back corridor, out of sight, then turns to face her with a look that borders on a challenge. The woman smirks, as though daring her to do her worst, but Cho hesitates, savouring the moment, knowing she is only inches away from what she has wanted for so long -

And then kisses her.

There is no softness here, nothing coy about their lips' first touch. This is passion, pure and simple, a fire that burns bright enough to consume them both. Cho pushes the woman back against the wall, buries her hands in the chestnut curls of her hair and tugs tight enough for it to hurt. The woman wraps her arms around Cho's waist, nails digging into her back through her shirt, and Cho can smell the warm heat of her breath, sweet as cinnamon -

The register's change tray clicks open, breaking Cho out of her fantasy. She hands the stranger her change, and smiles, trying to keep the heat from her face.

“Have a nice day!”

“You too,” the woman murmurs, but she has already turned away.

She has forgotten, as she sometimes does, to tell Cho her name. It doesn't matter; Cho knows it by heart. She writes it on the cup in careful, curling handwriting, the name that races through her mind each night as she falls asleep and bursts out of her like a song each morning as she wakes:

Hermione.


End file.
